#dunno is this too negative for his tags?

[on-a-lucky-tide]

Curious what you'd say about Soap for the character ask game. You haven't really spoken about him as much as the others so I'm curious :O (id love to hear about every single character tho i wont lie to you but i have a feeling you'll get asked about those lol)

@nekrosmos asked for Soap too.

Honestly? There is unfortunately a reason. I lingered around fandom for a good few months before I got involved at all. I saw some behaviour from his fanbase that I didn't like and so I made the conscious choice that he's not a character I'd probably be creating much for. I love the art, happy to support creators, etc. Besides, there are so many delicious, delicious rarepairs to love and create for and plenty of gallant, productive, devoted Ghoapers.

He's quite compelling though, and I've got quite a few thoughts and headcanons, and I'm happy to write prompts with him. A few friends on Discord really love him and I like to create for them too, cause happy friends give me the fuzzies. So, you know, a story idea might grip me by the balls and I'll wack out a long form thing.

favorite thing about them

His journals.

Reading those finally gave me a connection with his character that I hadn't developed previously. But they really show how driven he is, how much he wants to be the best he can be, so he's not a burden, so he doesn't let anyone down. He's constantly striving to earn his place to the point that it kills him in the end.

I think he genuinely struggles with wanting to be liked (as part of 'earning his place'), and I think he is often too much for people. Ghost giving back as good as he gets is a comfortable relationship because the line for Ghost is way, way in the distance; Johnny doesn't have to worry like he does with 'normal' people. Neither of them is fuckin' normal.

Price giving him a chance would have been the first step towards the hero-style worship he has for him. "What? Me? Ye want... me? Aye, aye I will be the best fuckin' dog ye ever had, I will bite my own leg off for ye." Everything Soap does is to prove that Price didn't make a mistake. That he was a good investment. And Price, the sly fucker, knows it. He sees himself there.

least favorite thing about them

I wish they had given him a stronger accent and leaned more into that in the games. In fact, I wish that for all of them.

I also think that Soap has capacity to cause great harm without even realising it. Like, we get glimpses of it; he's nearly court-martialled for punching out a copper. In his single-minded pursuit of something, I reckon there could be a lot of collateral damage.

He lacks confidence but will cover it up by being an arsehole and doing arsehole things (such as smuggling a girl on base to impress The Guys). I say I like "least favourite"; I think this makes him compelling as a character. He's not all sunshine and rainbows. He's just as gritty, professional and flawed as the rest of 'em.

favorite line

"You sick bastard..."

"My kingdom for a suppressor..."

"Price?... This belongs to you, sir."

brOTP

Gaz & Soap

OTP

Uh... none really. Ghost/Soap?

nOTP

Don't have any strong feelings on any.

random headcanon

He's really bad at team sport. He showed no interest in any when he was growing up. Gym? Running? Swimming? Anything where the only competition is himself and his own limits? That's where Soap's head is.

unpopular opinion

Honestly? I don't know which of my opinions would be unpopular. Probably the 'not sunshine and rainbows' one, maybe?

song i associate with them

favorite picture of them

[butchrindou]

need to draw baji and rindou as bffs tbhhh i feel like they’d get along but it would take a while also literally because i have some music baji would listen to in my rindou playlists but who said that.. must’ve been the wind

[katiekatdragon27]

Dandy's World Roleplay servers are so wild and unhinged that it makes me come up with AUs. And yes, it's shinyshrimp. I'm so cringe <333

So, while in the roleplay server, I got into an argument with a Shrimpo as Glisten about not being able to see proper reflections though Glisten's face. Then a Goob showed up (my sibling) and asked if Shrimpo was a vampire. Then they asked if Glisten (me) was a vampire. Then we asked the Goob if he was a vampire, and he turned emo. And then I shared this experience with my friends, and they egged me on to make an AU about it lol.

Glisten: So. Is this the part where we make out, orrr-?? Shrimpo: WHAT??!

Dandy: No cuz it's genius! If they hate each other, that's two less annoying people to deal with! (He underestimated the power of enemies to lovers)

The general plot is Glisten is a monster hunter and Shrimpo is a human turned vampire-werewolf (he has no memory of how that happened btw). Glisten is specifically hired by Dandicus to hunt down and kill Shrimpo. Glisten manages to hunt Shrimpo down, but since Shimpo hasn't been non-human for that long, he puts up a kinda pathetic fight. Glisten puts Shimpo's arrogant ass in place and refuses to kill him so they can fight honorably. Shrimpo takes this personally lol and strives to get better at fighting so he can show up Glisten.

Badabing badaboom, enemies to lovers setup.

Dandy did not see that coming and it pisses him off lol.

Shrimpo: I HATE YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO- Astro (to himself): WTF is up with this guy?

This was a doodle recommended by an awesome artist in a server I'm in (dunno if they wanna be tagged lol). Astro being a moon moth thing causes Shrimpo to howl at him lol. Also part of the reason Dandy dislikes Shrimpo lol. Also also, Astro is a witch.

Also also also, here's the emo Goob my sibling became when discussing vampires. He unemos when he becomes a weredog lol.

Below is a buncha doodles all about Glisten (and his failing mental health).

TW FOR UNINTENTIONAL S.H. PROCCED WITH CAUTION:

You guys know Wiggle from Bugsnax? You guys know Millie from Helluva Boss? Yeah. They were the main inspos for this design hc lol (the buck teeth part not the insecurity part).

I have this goofy hc that Glisten's og design never intended to give him buck teeth. When being made, the ichor messed up and gave it to him. Learning about this is his first instance of feeling insecure about himself, and he develops the mannerism of covering his mouth when laughing (bc it makes his teeth really obvious lol)

And since Glisten now has buck teeth, that means Shimmer also gets buck teeth! However, her reaction to them was completely different to how her dad reacted to his.

I have this hc that Glisten can't handle backlash that well. With the machine messing up with his face (his teeth), and his general vibe being disliked by many people of the time of Gardenview (prob bc the 90s and very queer-coded kids' character didn't exactly mix well), he feels this crippling pressure to be the "perfect" version of himself.

If he deems you lower than him, your words don't matter. He doesn't care what you think about him

However, if he views you as an equal or higher, any kind of negative opinion said to him will be taken personally, and will either be repressed into self-hatred, or actively worked upon in order to be "better" (which ends up hurting him more depending on the situation.) His need for perfecting also makes him a workaholic when in a spiral, leading him to self-isolate and just kinda hide away from everyone for a couple days, and sometimes injure himself trying to get better on his own (he has a tendency to scratch his arms and face too, only fueling his need for isolation).

He refuses to open the door and get food outside, so ppl will slide him snacks and things under the door. People still care about him, but he'll never them see him cry.

Glisten has such horrid insecurity that he will never let anyone see. However, not everything is bleak for the guy.

Shimmer: Hey Dad! Guess what!? My teeth grew in! Now I look like you! Isn't that cool?!

She was not born with them unlike Glisten. Instead, they grew in near her "10th" birthday. She was very happy to have them. I like to think that seeing Shimmer be so happy to have a very sensitive trait of Glisten and loving every second of it helps him heal a bit of his insecurity.

After all, how can he hate a part of himself that his kid adores?

Kids don't fix everything, but they can aid in healing lol

Have a good one dudes^^

[nanamineedstherapy]

Tsundere vs. Tsundere: A Battle of Pride (& Boob Grabs)

Tsundere!Four-Armed!Ryomen Sukuna x Even More Tsundere!Reader

Summary: You want to touch his toddies. Tags: Tsundere x Tsundere Warfare, You Made Sukuna Malfunction, Congratulations, He Tries to Kill You but He Can’t Because He’s Embarrassed, Grabbing the King of Curses’ Tiddies: A Cultural Analysis, Four Arms/No Peace, Sukuna Has a Chest and We Will Respectfully Objectify It, Reader Is a Menace to Society (and to Sukuna Specifically), Slow Burn But Only Because He Keeps Running Away, Enemies to "What the Fuck Are We?", No Beta We Die Like Sukuna’s Dignity, Reader has negative shame, Sukuna has four arms and zero escape routes, Sukuna tries to murder you multiple times but honestly? He kinda likes it.

Ryomen Sukuna, the King of Curses, was feared by all. He was a merciless, bloodthirsty deity, a demon whose name alone sent shivers down the spines of the strongest sorcerers.

And yet.

"Come on," you huffed, arms crossed, eyes narrowed. "Just one squeeze."

Across from you, Ryomen Sukuna, all four arms folded like an impenetrable fortress, gave you a deadpan look.

"You are repulsive."

You gasped, dramatically clutching your chest. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me, you perverted little worm," he grumbled, looking disgusted but also slightly concerned for humanity. "Who the hell asks a man to touch his chest like this?"

"A woman of culture," you corrected.

Sukuna exhaled through his nose like a disappointed father.

"You do realize I don’t even have—"

"Yes, you do," you cut in. "Look at those pecs. Absolute meat slabs. That’s not a chest, that’s a national monument."

His eye twitched. "You—"

"—should be honored that I even want to."

"That’s it," he snarled, unfolding his arms, looming over you like the eldritch horror he was. "You are the most insufferable human I have ever met."

You sniffed, tilting your nose up. "Fine then. I’ll just leave since I’m so unwanted."

Sukuna blinked. "Huh?"

"It’s clear you don’t want me around," you continued, sighing dramatically. "I’m not going to stay where I’m not wanted."

He narrowed his eyes. "Tch. Good."

"Great."

"Fine."

"Fine."

A pause.

You turned on your heel, marching off with your nose still high, shoulders squared.

Sukuna watched, waiting for you to stop, to turn around, to say something else—

But you didn’t.

You just kept walking.

His eye twitched.

The audacity.

He let out a sharp click of his tongue. "Oh, for—get back here, you pathetic little thing."

You stopped immediately, turning back faster than you should have.

He stared.

You blinked at him.

"...You were waiting for me to stop you," he accused.

"No, I wasn’t," you said, too fast, too defensive.

"Tch. Liar," he muttered, folding his arms again. "Pathetic."

You smirked, walking back over, smug. "Aww, so you do want me around?"

"I never said that," he snapped.

"But you implied it."

"Shut up."

You grinned like a little gremlin and stepped closer. Sukuna stiffened slightly but didn’t move away.

He was playing with fire, and he knew it.

"...So," you hummed. "About those boobies—"

"For the last time," he snarled, four hands twitching in irritation, "I DO NOT HAVE BOOBS."

"I dunno, Sukuna," you mused, eyeing his very grab-able chest. "I think you do. And I think, deep down, you want me to appreciate them."

"I WILL KILL YOU."

"You won't."

"You are two seconds away from being crushed under my foot, you flea."

You pouted, leaning against his massive frame like a lazy cat. "Then why haven’t you done it yet?"

A vein bulged in his forehead. "Because you’re too damn pathetic to waste my energy on."

"That’s cute. Keep talking."

He gritted his teeth. "Get. Off."

You looked up at him, utterly unbothered, and smirked. "Make me."

For the first time in his cursed existence, Sukuna did not have a comeback.

He glared down at you, his simmering rage met with your absolute lack of shame.

Neither of you moved.

It was a standoff of pride.

A battle between two tsunderes too stubborn for their own good.

Finally, Sukuna scoffed, reaching up with two of his four hands to shove you off.

But instead of throwing you away—

His hands landed on your waist.

He realized too late.

You grinned.

"Aww, look at you," you mocked, reaching up with both hands to squeeze his chest like a gremlin. "Such a big scary curse, and yet, so soft."

Sukuna short-circuited.

"YOU—"

"Shhh," you cooed, squeezing again, lovingly. "You’re ruining the moment, my sweet."

"GET YOUR FILTHY HANDS OFF ME—!"

"I’M NEVER LETTING GO."

Sukuna roared, his rage shaking the very ground beneath you—

But his hands on your waist did not move.

And you grinned even wider.

Sukuna was a beast.

A god.

The King of Curses.

He had slaughtered armies, razed entire civilizations to the ground, and bathed in the blood of his enemies for sheer entertainment.

And yet.

“W-What the fuck was that?” he barked, stumbling back like you had just struck him with a Divine Retribution technique.

You licked your lips, looking very, very pleased with yourself.

"Huh. So you are sensitive."

Sukuna looked horrified.

"You—you disgusting little—" He slapped all four of his hands over his chest like some kind of violated Victorian maiden. "Did you just—"

You smirked. "I licked them nipps."

His entire body locked up.

For the first time in his immortal existence, Sukuna—the monster who had instilled terror into the strongest warriors, the man feared across history—ran.

He ran.

A whole four-armed sprinting menace.

You watched in absolute delight as he took off, tearing through the temple ruins like his life depended on it.

"Oh my god," you wheezed, doubling over with laughter. "This is the best day of my life."

---

Later, you found him lurking in the shadows like some kind of brooding, shirtless villain.

"Oi."

He twitched.

You approached, casual as ever, like you hadn’t just discovered his Achilles' heel (or nipples, in this case).

"Still sulking?" you teased, arms crossed, smirking up at him.

Sukuna was leaning against a half-crumbled pillar, arms crossed over his chest like it would protect him from your crimes.

His eyes snapped to you, burning with residual humiliation. "Say another word and I’ll tear your tongue out."

You hummed, tapping your chin, pretending to think. "That’s funny, coming from the guy who ran away the second I—"

"Shut. Up."

You grinned.

A slow, sinister, menace-filled grin.

"You know, Sukuna," you mused, watching the way his muscles tensed in pure, unfiltered rage, "it must be so hard being you."

His eye twitched. "What the hell are you—"

"You know," you continued, milking this moment for all it was worth, "all alone, up in this temple, no one to understand your struggles."

Sukuna glared. "I have no struggles, you imbecile."

You sighed dramatically, shaking your head. "No one to talk to… No one to help when things get rough…"

He snarled. "I don’t need—"

And then—

You delivered the final blow.

You placed a hand over your heart, feigning sympathy, then tilted your head slightly, voice dripping with fake concern—

"Must be tough… lactating by yourself, handsome."

Silence.

The world stood still.

Sukuna stared at you.

You stared back.

A vein bulged in his forehead.

His four fists clenched.

The entire atmosphere darkened.

You, completely unbothered, bit back a laugh.

His breathing got heavier. "I am going to rip you apart."

You shrugged. "I’d like to see you try."

He launched at you.

You screamed in pure joy, honked his boobies and ran away.

A/N: Scream in the comments, or Sukuna will lactate alone forever. Your choice. 😌 If you want to discuss Sukuna's Lactation, my asks are open. (✿ ͡≖ ͜ʖ ͡≖)

All Works Masterlist

[zoloft3]

the man i assume to be god

☆彡hitoshi shinso x gn! reader

tags—> weed use, nickname use (sweetheart), no use of y/n, first person pov (i'm sorry this is unlike me), childhood friends to weird ass situationship to lovers, it's sappy :| don't be mad,

a/n : this is technically a cross post, since i originally posted this on ao3 years ago, but i wanted to rewrite it for a character i like better and relate to more now. i also changed a bunch of the writing to what's more my style nowadays. so if you've seen this before... no you haven't. This is also the start of me officially beginning my tumblr writing career :] so if you like this lmk and i might do more

-------༚☆༚-------

We made a bad habit of falling asleep in the car.

Hitoshi was always calling me late at night to go for a drive. He'd pick me up in the car he spent too much money on and make some mean comment about my sweatpants and 1 AM eye bags, all before smiling like it hadn't been weeks since he texted. I would get in the car, let the scent of him envelope me, and immediately forgive him. He’d been dealing with the weight of a quarter life crisis, and apparently needed me and some weed to take a load off. Being best friends and head over heels in love since high school made it difficult to say no to him.

We’d fallen into a bit of a routine, unfortunately. Driving out till we found a good place to stop, and then rolling down the windows to watch the few stars that were out. By the time I had shot-gunned him a few times, per his request, my eyelids would droop and there'd be that stomach settling feeling. The kind that makes it so easy to sit perfectly still and never move a muscle. Being so close to him was dreamy, and the buzzing smoke inhalation never failed to take it out of me.

The weed didn't do much to curb my mind though. Whatever we were, whatever racing thoughts I would think all day about him, didn't stop at the car door. The whole thing was messy and so fucking complicated. I tried not to think too hard about it. Most of the time I’d just focus on how pretty he was and how lucky I am to be able to love him.

When he says my name, I swear-

I don’t even know what it does, it kills me so badly.

This one saturday night in particular, Hitoshi didn’t seem as interested in lazy, open mouthed kisses. He seemed fixated on looking at me.

“Hey, you okay?” I nudged his shoulder, attempting to stir awake the Hitoshi I knew. The man only I got to see.

He was a famous work of art, but only I got to hang the framed canvas on my wall. Only I could stand close enough to see each and every brush stroke. No post card or photo could ever compare to the real thing. He was mine, even if he wasn't my boyfriend, he was mine.

“Sorry,” He seemed to snap out of whatever trance he was under, “Just doing too much thinking lately.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed that,” I smirked, tilting my head to get a better angle of his moonlit face.

“You think we could, just, I dunno,” He looked out the open window, lost in the open air and pine trees, “Maybe talk? About this? Us?”

My heart did a 180 in my chest, so, as per usual, I relied on attempted comedy and a smile to take the anxiety away, “Talk about us? I was beginning to think you’d never ask.”

“I’m serious, you know." The look on he gave me dropped the smile off my face. He was serious. This was officially bad. My brain wracked itself for every possible negative outcome.

Until he spoke again.

"I’ve been thinking we should try something.” He shifted his hands off the steering wheel to take another hit, then tap the ash out the window. The whole scene was far more attractive than I’d ever admit. The way he put his lips together as he exhaled the smoke in my direction. It was fantastical. Sweet, sappy memories I’d lick off the floor of this car to remember.

I’d do anything to keep him on my mind.

“Try… what?” I asked, genuinely curious and anxious for his answer.

This seemed to bring him all the way back to himself, there was a sly smirk on his lips, “I dunno, sweetheart, what do you think?”

There was that sinking feeling again and my back was glued to the seat, eyes stuck on his face. My mind knew what was coming, but my heart couldn't accept that the thing I'd been dreaming about since I was fourteen, was really coming true. In this very moment. Oh, lord.

He turned to face me fully, and the spell broke. This definitely wasn't a dream. Both our arms resting on the center console brought our faces incredibly close.

We’ve always been this way, together and apart, near, yet so far.

Noses almost grazing each other, I pushed myself to speak in the presence of the man I assume to be god.

“You want me to guess?” I raised an eyebrow despite my aching, heavy heart, “Or will you just kiss me already.”

One thing I loved about Hitoshi, is one way or another, he always did what I told him to do.

He kissed differently than I expected, not so commanding or competitive but slow and compassionate. I knew only then, that everything would be fine. We were together, finally, as one.

We didn’t fall asleep in the car that night.

-------☆-------

a/n : if it was terrible, don't tell me.

i will walk into the ocean and never come back.

thanks to @saemeret for being such a good little beta (annoying baby talk voice) smooch <3

[gridgamesgalore]

petitirons to SACRIFICE OUR OLD SELVES !!

we dont talk about 2023 lowjay i would rather DIE !!!!!!!!! grabbing the pitchforsk to execute '23 loj

tmi 2023 me being a manipulative piece of shit

throwback to that time in 2023 where I got into a conflict w/ an online friend which ended up in temporary friendship end so in response I made a full alternative account in which I posed as a nonbinary someone [ i fogrot the name i used ] and talked in a way that was completely different to my main account ... um I repurposed that account [ like I shouldve ] and removed all of my past history of me on that old friends channel so I guess its okay

can you see why I hate my 2023 self like holy shit dude I wish you would have got asbestos poisoning you fucking bitch I hate you !! /vneg

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Okay talking about little meow meow Cecil

I can’t stop thinking about him and f.reader who have been together for a while and him holding back the whole time because he is embarrassed how whiny he gets and how fast he cums 😭😭

Reader realizes that he is horny all the time tho 🤭

They talk about it and after a lot reassurance that she won’t judge BOOM whiny whimpering meow meow timeeeeee

Oh my goooossshh! Foaming at the mouth over this!

Cecil Dennis F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals •Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | requestinfo• ko-fi •

Summary: Cecil has a problem.

Warnings: Cecil is a warning in himself, negative thoughts, kissing, oral (f receiving), swearing, over use of italics, typos, not beta read, railroad sentences, please let me know if I’ve missed a warning!

Word Count: 726

Cecil is literally trying to behave himself so much. He’s putting his whole bussy into it.

He’s not drinking/smoking too much. He’s trying to be attentive. He’s thinking about his actions before he does them (sometimes a little too much, it’s like ‘oops, why did this choice take 3 hours?’)

He doesn’t want to make a huge mistake and lose you because he acted without thinking or was selfish.

Which has led to him absolutely panicking about being intimate with you. 

Because this man does not last.

He really tries, but he just gets too excited and comes after thirty seconds. 

This includes when he doesn’t even have his dick anywhere near anything. Sometimes even making out will make him mess in his jeans. 

And he’s just so self-conscious about it. 

He keeps thinking about how he’d really like to eat you out, but he knows he’ll barely get his tongue on you before he’s moaning like a whore in a porno. 

And what are you gonna think of him? You’re not going to want to be anywhere near him again. 

So he’s trying really hard to be a gentleman, and not be alone with you in a private place as an excuse to not take things further. 

All the while he’s been furiously researching methods to make himself last longer. 

These include: edging, overstimulation, not jacking off at all, jacking off all the time.

He is absolutely distraught when he realises none of these things are making a blind bit of difference. 

In fact it’s actually become a little worse, the other day in the shower he wasn’t even touching his dick, but the thought of you made him come so hard against the tiles that he had to sit down to stop himself from falling down.

He’s even bought a hollow strap-on online, but he’s been too nervous to take it out of the box when it arrived. So at the moment it’s just hidden under his bed.

However, he hasn’t thought about the fact that, yeah he comes really fast. But his refractory period is also really fast too.

It all comes to a point after one date where he took you to a local funfair (and spent far too many dollars winning you a soft toy duck that you said was cute.) 

You invite him into your home, convincing him to come inside. The second the front door is shut you’re kissing him senseless. 

Cecil whines and then freezes, panicking.

You stop, pull back and frown in concern. “Cecil…” you take a deep breath, “do you, erm, actually like me? I mean…” You say a little nervously.

You’ve mistaken all his previous actions as disinterest in you. 

His eyes go wide, “No, no, no, please, you’re so hot, I really like you, I just…”

“You just?” 

He closes his eyes, defeat washing over him as his shoulders slump. “I… I’ve got a problem.” 

“Like an STI?”

“No,” he opened his eyes quickly, he’d gone and got himself checked. “No, I… I’m… I don’t last long… I just… and I make some… I sound pretty whiney…” A small hint of pink colours his cheeks. He fiddles with his hands and he talks. Expecting you to laugh at him and tell him to get the fuck out. 

Instead you touch his cheek softly. 

He looks at you with his dark doe eyes. “You’re not… mad?” 

“Mad? Cecil,” you give him a small quick kiss. “Why would I be mad?” He shrugs, “I dunno, I just… I don’t want to disappoint you. You deserve so much nice stuff and I want to give it all to you and I know I’m not the best and-”

You shut him up with a long, slow kiss, licking into his mouth and making him groan and dig his fingers into your waist. 

When you suck on his neck he moans so prettily, grinding against you and practically sobbing. 

You don’t make it to your bedroom, or even the sofa. 

You end up on your back on the floor as he licks your pussy like his life depends on it. 

He comes the second you scrape your nails along his scalp, whining and sobbing against you. 

But he doesn’t stop sucking on your clit until you’ve screamed his name and he’s tasted your cum at least three times.

Thank you for reading!

@pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @whatthefishh

@romanarose @strangerhands @saturn-rings-writes @lonelyisamyw-0love @queerponcho

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@novarosewood

If you’d like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

[antianakin]

hey, just wanted to say that i appreciate you creating this space to discuss more uh....unpopular takes on star wars. obviously fandom is a hobby and i don't want to ruin anyone's fun! but i also want a space to push back against fanon interpretations without treading on anyone's toes, you know?

like the whole obi-wan catholic guilt trope, jedi repression trope at large...i'm being dramatic but as an asian person, sometimes it sucks that this is such a prevalent idea about a heroic group that was influenced by buddhism and is very asian-coded. i'm not wording this well but just like how stories about european knights often reflect *the very best* of western values like chivalry, honor, gentility, i could really see a lot of the best of asian culture (a huge over-simplification) in the jedi.

but all that being reduced to "oh actually it's totally catholic guilt" or a inadvertently a regurgitation of prevalent asian stereotypes (the jedi as a group suppress individuality, they don't express emotions, they are too harsh, too unforgiving, lack compassion) is...frustrating to see, even though it's everyone's right to interpret & relate to things as they see fit.

especially when focused on obi-wan! even if we assume that obi-wan is repressed, secretly attached to an unhealthy degree but hiding it, or whatnot - the man quite literally airs the dirty laundry in front of mace and yoda, perhaps the "highest" members of the jedi. he says that he thinks anakin is arrogant, isn't listening to him. i dunno but a repressed person who hates confrontation and vulnerability probably wouldn't do that. he should've gone "haha nope anakin and i are totally fine masters, totally fine" instead of looking for advice & airing out his frustrations.

people getting angry at obi-wan for putting the jedi order over anakin is still annoying, but at least accurate. like yes! obi-wan does put the good of his culture and the galaxy at large over his old padawan! good for him!

but honestly all popular fanon obi-wan tropes go round on a roulette wheel waiting for me to pick one to be petty about lmao.

I definitely get what you mean about wanting a space to push back on common fanon interpretations without stepping on anyone's toes. That's obviously exactly why I made this blog in the first place. It's why I named the blog "antianakin" at all, it's supposed to be a giant neon warning sign to people that I'm not going to feel ashamed of some of my more negative opinions. It's why I use anti and critical tags as much as possible, and don't use the more general tags most of the time (aside from just... "star wars"). This is my space to put my feelings out there, positive AND negative, and I work really hard to make sure I'm not invading spaces that are meant for being positive.

I also often don't reblog people's posts that I completely disagree with JUST to talk about why I don't like their take. I won't invade someone's Jedi critical post in order to tell them that they're wrong about Star Wars. People have tried to tag me into posts like that, but I'm not interested in doing that kind of thing. If I DO want to say something about what I've seen, I make my own post about the issue.

It's interesting that you mention that stories about European knights often reflect what's viewed as the best of Western values, because so often when I see people talk about what would make the Jedi BETTER (or Legends versions of the Jedi that they think were done better), it's usually pretty clear that the Jedi are being turned INTO your more typical European knight to reflect those exact values. They're often wandering on their own, doing what they personally believe to be right whenever and wherever they want, defending the helpless wherever they find them by just riding in on a white horse and slaying an enemy or a monster. And of course some of those values they uphold are about what love and relationships should look like, too, so they all end up in committed monogamous relationships (even if it's with more than one person, it's still usually monogamous). This is one of the reasons I started getting frustrated with the High Republic novels by the third one because it started having that vibe that the "good" Jedi who stuck to more "traditional" ways of doing things and "traditional" values were so much more like your typical European knight, while the Jedi character doing something more modern and more political was losing his way and struggling with a desire for things he was repressing.

It's a feeling we've seen come up time and time again and it keeps getting tossed out in more recent shows, too, the idea that the Jedi "lost their way" from what they should've been, that they once used to represent something worthwhile and losing those traditional values is what caused their destruction and the only way to keep it from happening again is to go back to that. It's not hard to see where that storyline feels compelling, obviously, but it IS sad to see the values that the Jedi DO have in the Prequels in particular getting tossed aside as unworthy and to see their defeat being rewritten as THEIR failure instead of everyone else's.

I've had people tell me that this story feels like it has more nuance to it than the Jedi simply being the heroic victims and the Sith being pure villains. And I get why people think that, I just think that there's a lot of nuance they're MISSING in the story being told, and that that nuance exists EVEN WITH the Jedi still being the heroic victims and the Sith being clear villains. I am more than happy to help critique some of the WAYS that that story got told in the Prequels, the issues in the structure of the Prequels and how it maybe muddied some of the messages that the story was trying to get across, but I also think that that critique is SEPARATE from my feelings on the intended narrative itself. I don't think that the narrative itself is bad or lacking in nuance simply because it may not have been told perfectly. And, personally, I think that some of the more "nuanced" Jedi critical takes often seem INCREDIBLY simplistic themselves.

As for Obi-Wan, fandom will do what fandom does to its darlings. I've certainly done my fair share of simplifying my faves down to shadows of themselves because I happened to enjoy the shadow sometimes in its own right. But I do think that there's plenty of evidence to contradict a lot of people's more popular interpretation of Obi-Wan as a repressed, damaged, traumatized waif. I don't mind a LITTLE of that sometimes, usually when I read fics set in the early years of his apprenticeship with Qui-Gon following some of the events of Jedi Apprentice, but it comes with the context that Obi-Wan is still VERY YOUNG at the time and is dealing with some fairly specific things that have just happened to him and is still learning how to do that in a healthy way.

By the time you hit The Phantom Menace and ESPECIALLY the Clone Wars, Obi-Wan should no longer be a repressed, traumatized waif of a person. That's when it stops being believable to me because the character we see on screen in that time period never fits that description. Like you said, he's ACTIVELY confrontational to his superiors. He does do it with Mace and Yoda (and he does it in ROTS as well as in AOTC) and he does it with Qui-Gon during his apprenticeship, too.

The one other time I was willing to accept some of this characterization was in the Kenobi show where we do see him being more repressed and traumatized and less willing to stand up for himself when faced with confrontation with people like Owen. But one of the reasons this worked for me is because, much like with those JA fics, it comes with a VERY SPECIFIC CONTEXT, and it's done with the intentional purpose of giving Obi-Wan somewhere to develop. He also doesn't stay particularly submissive or waif-like for long, we see him gain back a LOT of his willingness to stand up for himself and confront people by the second episode. The message wasn't that Obi-Wan had ALWAYS been damaged and traumatized or that he was always "meant" for sadness or whatever, but that he had the capacity to find happiness IF HE CHOOSES TO ACT LIKE THE JEDI HE ONE WAS. The only reason he's struggling is because he ISN'T acting like a Jedi anymore. He's not finally figuring out how to handle his traumas, he's GOING BACK to being the person who can handle his traumas.

Anyway, yeah, I feel you, I have definitely experienced the roulette wheel of petty frustration at fandom interpretations of Obi-Wan lol. I can barely handle the "he drops his lightsaber all the time" joke because I feel like it often makes him come across as childishly incompetent.

[loz-chainsofcorruption]

Link OC questionnaire tag game!

If your Link wound up in the dark world, what would their dark world form be?

Boots would be some kind of mule/wolf combo, the same color as the special stitches on his clothes. Stray would be a scruffy cat, either soft orange or pink. Gerudo Link... Maybe a gryphon? But instead of an eagle, he's got crow parts, or some other resourceful bird. The bird parts would purple and the lion parts would be orange.

Pick 1-6 Pokemon you think they'd have!

Boots would absolutely have a Wooloo. Heck, he'd probably have three Wooloo, just like he's got three sheep at home. He'd be happy with a full team of wooloo, honestly, but I could also picture him with a Growlithe, Yamper, or Rockruff. Stray would totally get along with a Nickit, but if not that, or if he had another, I imagine it would be some Pokemon he found abandoned, like maybe a Zigzagoon. It would probably remind him a little too much of himself not to take under his wing, and he'd constantly question his decision while sharing food with it. Gerudo Link... I like to think the Gerudo love the Helioptile line, so I think he'd have a Heliolisk. I also think he'd have a fighting type, but something a little silly to suit his more mischievous side - maybe Monferno? Although I could see him being assigned a third Pokemon for safety or something... Maybe a Blaziken, Gallade, or Lucario?

What is their favorite item and why?

Boots would be... Gosh, he's having a hard time choosing. He was hyped about getting bombs but he admittedly loves the Fire Sword and Lightning Sword - but special attacks with those, which is like, 90% of their fun, uses up energy, which is a bummer. The Cucco's cape has been incredibly handy, but also it's not very exciting. He's hesitant to pick any boots because... The principle of the matter, and so many of them look ridiculous, but- oh, actually, he takes it all back. His harmonica. Fast travel is the greatest thing in the world in his opinion, he was so sick and tired of walking everywhere and when it came to having to backtrack for a bunch of stuff? Phew, he's real glad he had that! I don't know for sure what items the other two will wind up having, but I can for sure see Stray loving a grappling hook if I were to give him one. Thieving off of monsters? Heck yeah. I could see Gerudo Link liking a lightning rod.

What was their initial motivation for starting their adventure?

For Boots, it was saving his family (and hometown in general!). It was caged by a dangerous barrier and negatively affecting everyone trapped inside, so he initially just set out to free them before deciding to continue on to stop Veskaris completely. For Stray, it was literally just to get Zelda out of his head. He did not want this girl stuck in his brain hearing some of his thoughts and sometimes controlling his body, terrible awful get her out of there!!! Tbf he was already actually helping out a bit before that by slaying monsters but that was primarily to make money as people hired him to do so. For Gerudo Link, it was to protect his people from the terrible and corrupt king of Midrule, Ganondorf!

Do they have/get an instrument, and if so, what does it do?

Boots gets a harmonica at some point, which is used to warp to certain locations. I haven't decided for the other two at all yet, but I'm tempted to give Stray a kalimba? Idk what it would do, I dunno if I'll give him one, but I do like Link's having instruments. I'd like to give Geruo Link something too... A small drum or - ooh, an alghoza would be cool.

Least favorite enemy? Not counting Ganon(dorf) or the main bad guy(s) of the story!

For Boots? Gibdo. At least for now... I've only written a handful, so I have a feeling that could change once he has to deal with enemies that make him drop his weapon and shield uwu but the Gibdo geniunely terrify him, so who knows. I'm not entirely sure what enemies Stray and Gerudo Link will face, but from the little I've got cooking for Stray's story, I'm not sure any usual Zelda enemy would be worse than Puppeted People. Gerudo Link would probably mostly hate the ones that are like, a pain to defeat or are inconvenient/can't be defeated but just must be avoided. Whatever he can't just muscle his way past. So like, Armos and Beamos, Bubbles that make it so you can't fight, etc.

How well did your Link know his Zelda before his adventure began, if at all, how did they meet, and what is their relationship by the end and/or post adventure?

Boots was childhood... Uh, well, I wouldn't say friends with his Zelda, but they spend time together occasionally as kids for a good handful of years when his grandpa brought him to the castle. They didn't really like each other. He gets to see her again at the end of his adventure, they trauma bond, and then wind up with a weird sorta sibling coded relationship afterwards where they annoy each other but also Have a Special Understanding no one else does thanks to what they went through. You can actually read their first meeting (+ a mini comic) here! Stray first meets his Zelda when she uhh, appears in his brain as a voice. Stuck there. LOL. He doesn't believe she's the princess at first because? That's crazy. Why would the princess be stuck in his brain. They don't get along at all at first but eventually he reaches a point where he doesn't know what to do without her and is terrified, feeling lost, when he temporarily loses her - as in she's no longer in his head or in the area at all. I ship them, your honor. Gerudo Link first meets Zelda under the guise of a marriage arrangement meeting and is Suspicious Of Her. Can't tell if she's innocent of Ganondorf's plans or playing innocent to try and trick him. Eventually he comes to realize she's genuine and, if all goes well and my kids don't stray from the plans I've got for them, they will be in love eventually <3 of course my OCs don't always listen owo;;; things don't always go as planned.. so we'll see.

No pressure tags for @skyward-floored @palmolli @interlink-au hope none of u mind the tags

But also, open tags - if you have a Link OC, feel free to join! Non-Linked Universe Links meet AUs count too!

[shewasverynice]

Fandoms: 呪術廻戦 | Jujutsu Kaisen 

⚠️ SPOILER HEAVY ⚠️

Major Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death 

Full tags/warnings on Chapter links post

Major Characters: Original Character, Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Ieiri Shoko, Yaga Masamichi, Nanami Kento, Haibara Yu, Tsukumo Yuki, Choso

‎‧₊˚✧ Chapter 27✧˚₊‧

"Move!" Haibara shouted, charging forward and knocking Sarah back with his shoulder. She grunted, but let herself fall as the curse sailed overhead and missed its pounce. Meanwhile, Nanami was at the ready and sliced the curse nearly in half before it began to dissipate.

"Damn! That was close!" Sarah laughed breathlessly when she sat up, but when she grinned up at Haibara and Nanami neither of them were smiling. She closed her mouth, sheepishly looking down at her hands in her lap. "I… I'm sorry."

"No, It's— Don't apologize," Nanami sighed, shaking his bangs out of his face. He glanced at Haibara who looked equally frustrated as he caught his breath. Nanami inhaled deeply for a moment, held it, then let it out slow before he squatted down to look at her. "You're too careless," he said sternly, "How did you not sense it?"

"I dunno," Sarah mumbled, looking at her shoes.

"Seems like you've been having a harder and harder time sensing them," Haibara said once he'd caught his breath, "Right, Nanami? I've noticed it too."

"Yes, I agree," Nanami said, holding his hand out for her as he stood up.

She took his hand and pulled herself to her feet. "You… may have a point…" She said quietly, "But how can that be? I've never had trouble before?"

"I have no idea," Nanami admitted, "I don't believe it's possible to 'get used' to being around curses."

Haibara suddenly gasped and pointed at Nanami. "But what if she's more used to being around a lot of cursed energy and that's why she's not sensing the small stuff?" he suggested, then looked at Sarah, "You're always around Geto and Gojo, maybe that's the problem? That's a lot of cursed energy to just hang around."

"I doubt that's it," Nanami said thoughtfully, placing his hand to his chin. "If that was the case then why is it only her? Shoko-senpai doesn't have this issue."

"Well and Shoko-senpai doesn't really go on dangerous missions so we wouldn't be able to tell," Haibara said with a shrug.

"Sarah, Kento, Yu," Yaga called and the three off them looked up to the hillside before moving to their mentor's side.

"Yes, sensei!" they called, lining up in front of him obediently.

"Sarah, go inform the manager that we're done here," Yaga commanded then turned to the boys, "You two, stay put."

Sarah hurried off and Yaga looked at the two boys with a grim expression. "This was something I feared may happen," their mentor said quietly.

"What do you mean?" Haibara asked, tilting his head.

Yaga cleared his throat, clasping his hands behind his back. "Cursed energy is inherently a negative force. But every force has…" He trailed off, glancing at the two boys expectantly.

"Something else?" Haibara said, his brows furrowing.

"An equal and opposite reaction," Nanami said, his eyes narrowing as he considered the possibility. He glanced up at Yaga and asked, "Is being around all this cursed energy depleting her secondary energy?"

Yaga said nothing and Nanami nodded. Haibara still looked confused, but then asked, "We're not hurting her are we?" Yaga said nothing once again, instead turning to lead the boys back to the car.

"You recall when Gojo explained her secondary energy?" Nanami whispered to Haibara.

Haibara nodded, "Yeah, so it's the opposite of cursed energy right? But what would that be?"

"They've been called it 'Blessed' energy for now, although Geto didn't exactly agree with the name," Nanami explained.

"So if cursed energy is negative normally then her stuff is positive normally?" Haibara asked.

"That's what I am assuming," Nanami agreed, "Which would mean that when the two combine they may be wiping each other out."

Haibara gasped and covered his mouth. "It it because she and I—"

"No, it has nothing to do with your relationship," Nanami said, rolling his eyes. He looked ahead at Sarah as she spoke to the Manager that had come with him. The girl didn't seem any worse for wear and her cursed energy was always minuscule so sensing a change was out.

"If only we could ask what's happening to her without the stupid vow," Haibara grumbled, "I bet it would make sense then."

"Then maybe we should ask the real her," Nanami suggested, glancing at Haibara with a hint of a smirk.

"Really?!" Haibara covered his mouth after he'd shouted, looking around as if the whole woods hadn't heard him.

"Gojo can do it," Nanami said with a nod, "He must have. There is no other explanation for why he knows more than we do."

"Why do you think it's Gojo-senpai that did it?" Haibara asked.

"Because what can't that idiot do?" Nanami sighed.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

"You serious?" Satoru laughed out the question, staring at the first years in front of him.

"Yes," Nanami repeated, "Please take us to speak with her tonight."

"No," Satoru said simply.

"Aww c'mon senpai!" Haibara groaned, "You know how to do it! At least tell us how!"

"Nah, see that's a slippery slope for all of us," Satoru chuckled darkly, "We can't keep fucking with something like that yet. I've already taken too many risks myself."

"It's not like you'd get hurt," Haibara huffed.

"No, but she would," Satoru warned, leaning in closer to Haibara. "Don't fuck with it yet. Don't even consider it."

"You've yet to explain why we can't," Nanami said, "In fact, it seems as if you have a lot more information on her that you're willing to share even with your own boyfriend. Why is that?"

Satoru was taken aback, then he grinned. "Oh-hoh! You gonna try to make me tell you?"

"Wait, this is—" "Yeah! I am gonna make you!" Haibara said excitedly, stepping up to Satoru's challenge.

"Hell yeah, Haibara let's go!" Satoru said, jumping up from his seat, "You and me. On the field right now! If you win, I'll tell you two literally everything I know."

Nanami considered this for a moment, then asked, "Am I allowed to assist?"

"Fuck yeah you can," Satoru said confidently, "Two on one is nothing to me. Let's go!"

The training field was mercifully empty when they arrived and the cicadas buzzed all around in the hot summer air. Satoru adjusted his sunglasses, his signature smirk plastered across his face as he walked onto the field with his hands in his pockets. The other two moved to stand across from him, both loosening up with stretches and rolls of their shoulders.

"Five minutes," Satoru announced, his voice carrying that unmistakable mix of arrogance and amusement. "If you two can last that long, I'll call it a win for you."

Haibara’s grin was as bright as the sun outside. "Five minutes? That’s easy! I’ll make you eat those words, senpai!" He hopped on his toes, shaking out his arms, brimming with energy.

Nanami, however, furrowed his brow. His sharp, calculating gaze flicked between Satoru's relaxed stance and the mischief glinting in his eyes. He sighed quietly, adjusting the grip on his cursed blade.

The moment Satoru clapped his hands together, the sparring match began.

Haibara lunged first, his fists glowing faintly with cursed energy as he aimed a powerful jab at Satoru's midsection. Satoru sidestepped effortlessly, pivoting just enough to let the punch skim harmlessly past him. "Not bad," he teased, flicking Haibara’s forehead with a speed so quick it was nearly imperceptible. Haibara stumbled back, blinking in surprise.

Before Satoru could press the advantage, Nanami was upon him, slashing in a precise diagonal arc. Satoru ducked smoothly, sweeping his leg in a low kick that Nanami leapt over at the last second. With a quick twist, Nanami reversed his momentum, bringing his blade down in a tight vertical slash.

Satoru caught Nanami’s wrist mid-swing, twisting just enough to force him back. "Ooh, nice form, Nanamin! You’ve been practicing."

Nanami gritted his teeth, jerking his arm free and retaliating with a rapid series of strikes. Satoru parried each with fluid, almost dismissive motions, his movements a step ahead at every turn.

Haibara rejoined the fray, coming in from Satoru's blind spot. His movements were wild but determined, a flurry of punches and kicks designed to overwhelm. Satoru spun gracefully, dodging one attack after another, his arms weaving a dance that deflected each strike without a scratch. At one point, Haibara thought he’d landed a clean kick to Satoru's ribs—only for Satoru to grab his ankle mid-air and swing him in a controlled arc, sending him tumbling to the floor.

"Come on, Haibara, you said this was going to be easy," Satoru quipped, offering a mock pout.

Undeterred, Haibara scrambled back to his feet, sweat dripping from his brow. "I’m just warming up!" he shot back, charging again.

The two underclassmen shifted tactics, coordinating their attacks. Nanami’s strikes came in sharp, calculated bursts, forcing Satoru to sidestep and block with precision, while Haibara’s relentless energy kept him dodging. It was an impressive display of teamwork—every time one of them pressed, the other followed up with a well-timed blow. But Satoru, to their mounting frustration, danced through it all like a leaf in the wind, never breaking his stride.

Nanami feinted a high slash and swept low instead, aiming to trip Satoru. It almost worked—Satoru teetered slightly—but he used the momentum to cartwheel out of range. He landed with an exaggerated flourish, spreading his arms wide. "You’re getting there! Maybe next year, though."

Haibara, seizing the opening, hurled himself forward with a fierce uppercut. For a fleeting moment, he thought he’d caught Satoru off guard—until Satoru leaned back just far enough for the punch to graze his chin, then delivered a playful tap to Haibara’s temple that sent him staggering.

By the three-minute mark, Nanami and Haibara were visibly flagging, their breaths coming in short, sharp gasps. Their attacks grew slower, less coordinated. Satoru, by contrast, hadn’t even broken a sweat. His grin widened as he caught Haibara’s punch mid-swing, spun him around, and gently but firmly shoved him to the floor.

Nanami, seeing an opening, lunged with a powerful, cursed-energy-enhanced thrust. Satoru sidestepped and swept Nanami’s legs out from under him in one smooth motion, sending him sprawling.

The room fell silent except for the ragged breaths of Nanami and Haibara, both lying flat on their backs. Satoru crouched beside them, his expression smug but not unkind.

"Almost three minutes. Not bad at all," he said, ruffling Haibara’s hair as the younger boy groaned. "But you’re gonna need more than guts to beat me. How about I help you train? No charge, of course—my teaching is priceless."

Nanami sat up, glaring. "You could’ve gone easy on us."

"Easy?" Satoru laughed, standing and stretching lazily. "I didn’t even use Limitless. That was easy." He shot them a wink. "Come on, guys. Next time, aim for four minutes. Maybe then I’ll really try."

The training weeks rolled by in a blur of early mornings, aching muscles, and endless teasing from Satoru. Nanami and Haibara quickly learned that the hardest part wasn’t the grueling workouts—it was dealing with Satoru's mouth.

"Rise and shine, sleepyheads!" Satoru sang, kicking open the dorm room doors at dawn. "Time to make your senpai proud! Or, you know, less disappointed."

Nanami groaned, burying his face deeper into his pillow. "Do you ever stop talking?"

"Only when I’m asleep," Satoru said with a grin, yanking the blankets off him. "C'mon Nanamin! Haibara’s already downstairs stretching. If he beats you in the run today, I’m never letting you live it down!"

Downstairs, Suguru greeted Haibara with a calm smile, handing him a water bottle. "Good morning, Haibara. Ready for another day of pain?"

"You bet!" Haibara grinned, radiating energy despite the early hour. "I’m getting faster. I can feel it!"

Suguru chuckled, clapping him on the shoulder. "That’s the spirit."

Mornings began with runs. Long, endless runs through the school grounds and the surrounding woods, with Satoru jogging backward half the time, calling out taunts and challenges. "Haibara, you call that a sprint? My grandma moves faster! And Nanami, if you trip over one more root, I’m getting you real glasses."

Weights came next. Satoru wasn’t shy about piling on the plates, either. "You’ve got to push yourself past your limits!" he’d declare dramatically, lounging on a nearby bench. "Or, you know, just cry about it. Either works for me."

Suguru, thankfully, was the voice of reason. He’d step in with quiet encouragement, demonstrating proper form and reminding them to breathe. "Focus, Nanami. One more set. You’ve got this," he’d say, steady and patient, while Haibara chugged water and cheered them both on.

And then there was sparring. Always sparring. It was the highlight of every session—and the most humiliating part. Satoru would step onto the mat, his hands in his pockets, grinning like he owned the place. "Let’s see what you’ve got today," he’d say, as if they weren’t about to throw everything they had at him.

At first, every match ended the same way: quickly. A flick of Satoru's wrist here, a sidestep there, and they’d be on the ground in seconds, panting and defeated. But over time, something changed. The matches lasted longer—seconds ticking into almost a full minute, then a minute and a half. They started landing hits, tiny glancing blows that barely fazed him but felt like monumental victories.

"Hey, Nanamin, was that your fist or a mosquito?" Satoru teased one day after Nanami managed to graze his ribs.

"That was a warning," Nanami muttered, trying to catch his breath.

Haibara, meanwhile, got more creative. He’d charge in with reckless abandon, grinning even as Satoru threw him to the mat. "One of these days, senpai, I’m gonna wipe that smirk off your face!"

"Dream big, Haibara," Satoru replied, laughing as he helped him up. "But maybe dream a little smaller for now."

Months passed, and the grueling routine began to pay off. Haibara’s wild energy was more controlled, his strikes faster and more precise. Nanami’s movements grew sharper, his strategy more refined. And while Satoru still wiped the floor with them every single time, those precious extra seconds felt like victories in themselves.

One morning after a particularly long run, the group sat under the shade of a tree, sweat soaking their gym clothes. Satoru lounged with his hands behind his head, while Suguru passed around water bottles.

"You’re getting there," Suguru said, nodding at Nanami and Haibara. "I can see the progress."

"Yeah, yeah," Satoru chimed in, grinning. "At this rate, you might actually make me try in, like, a year or two."

Haibara laughed, wiping his face with his sleeve. "Five minutes isn’t impossible anymore. I can feel it."

Nanami didn’t say anything, but there was a faint smile on his face. He looked at his calloused hands, the ache in his muscles, and the fire in his chest, and he knew Haibara was right. Five minutes wasn’t impossible.

"Gojo-senpai," Haibara suddenly called, jumping to his feet. "I want to go one-on-one with you."

Satoru, remained reclining against the tree trunk with his arms behind his head, tilted his head up to squint at Haibara through his sunglasses. “You serious, Haibara?” he asked, a lazy grin tugging at his lips. “Because I don’t want you crying when this ends in, like, ten seconds.”

"I’m serious," Haibara replied, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet. His confidence was contagious, and even Nanami raised an eyebrow from the sidelines, intrigued despite himself.

Suguru chuckled softly, sipping his water. "Go on, Satoru. Give him a shot."

Satoru pushed himself to his feet with an exaggerated groan, brushing off imaginary dust from his gym clothes. "Alright, Haibara," he said, clapping his hands together. "Let’s see what you’ve got. Just don’t embarrass yourself too much."

The two moved to the path, facing each other in the dappled sunlight. Nanami and Suguru settled in to watch, their interest piqued. Haibara dropped into a fighting stance, his easy smile not betraying a hint of nerves. "You ready?" he asked.

Satoru slid his hands into his pockets, giving a cocky shrug. “Born ready.”

The match began with Haibara darting in fast, throwing a clean jab aimed for Satoru’s chest. Satoru swayed like a leaf in the wind, effortlessly avoiding the strike and countering with a quick kick that Haibara barely managed to sidestep. Their movements were fluid, each exchange coming faster as Haibara pushed harder, and Satoru danced around him with infuriating ease.

But then Satoru’s sharp ears picked up something—barely audible over the rhythm of their movements. He froze mid-step, raising a hand to stop Haibara, who staggered back, confused.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Satoru said, pointing at him. "What the hell are you muttering?"

Haibara blinked, sheepishly scratching the back of his head. "Oh, uh... It’s nothing. I just… kinda think of music when I’m fighting. It helps me focus, y’know?"

Satoru’s eyebrows shot up behind his sunglasses. He slid them off with one smooth motion, revealing his glowing Six Eyes. "Hold on. Think of music? Like, what kind of music? Sing it."

Haibara recoiled, his face burning red. "What? No way!"

“Come on,” Satoru pressed, his grin stretching even wider. “Don’t be shy. We’re only going to make fun of you a little."

Suguru snickered from the sidelines, and even Nanami allowed himself a faint smirk. "You’re not getting out of this now, Haibara," Suguru called, clearly enjoying the show.

Reluctantly, Haibara cleared his throat and began to sing, just loud enough to be heard over the rustling leaves. “Defy youuuu... to the eeeend…”

Satoru’s grin turned to delight as recognition dawned. “The Offspring? Oh, you’ve got taste, kid!” He clapped his hands once, a loud, approving sound that echoed through the clearing. “But don’t butcher it. Sing it properly. This is sacred ground.”

Haibara laughed despite himself, shaking off his embarrassment. He sang a little louder this time, his voice steadying as he moved back into his stance. Satoru grinned, raising his hands in a loose guard. “Alright, rockstar, show me what you’ve got.”

The fight resumed, and at first, nothing seemed different—until Haibara’s cursed energy shifted. His singing faltered as he realized the air around them was shimmering faintly, almost like heat haze. His strikes became sharper, his movements faster, but it was as if the energy wasn’t entirely his own. Satoru’s grin widened, his Six Eyes glowing brighter as he took a step back to assess.

Then it happened. Haibara’s cursed energy surged, bright and fierce, rippling like a wave. The world around them seemed to flicker for just a moment, and everyone froze. Even Suguru sat up straighter, and Nanami’s eyes widened.

“Whoa,” Satoru breathed, his grin splitting into a laugh. “Well, well, well. Look at that. That’s a sign of something pretty fucking cool, Haibara.” He clapped Haibara on the shoulder, his amusement replaced by genuine excitement. “You’ve got something special in you, kid. Let’s see how far we can take it.”

"S-something special?" Haibara panted, looking at Satoru, then down at his own palms. He flexed his fingers, balling his fists back up. Something had happened. "What was that? Was that a cursed technique?"

"Not exactly," Satoru said tilting his head. He pointed at Haibara and said, "That was almost a domain expansion."

"Now hold on," Nanami said, standing up, "That's… impossible isn't it? He doesn't have an innate technique?"

"Well, technicalities like simple domain aside," Suguru chimed in, standing up as well, "It should be impossible. However, I trust Satoru's eyes more that my knowledge on the subject."

"It's interesting actually," Satoru said, tilting his head, "By all the taught knowledge it should be impossible. But I always had a theory about it."

"You talk like an old scientist," Suguru teased and Satoru only shrugged and poked out his tongue.

"So what you're saying is that I do have a technique?" Haibara asked, looking up at both his senpai, "You're not messing with me, right? You really mean it?"

"Here's the thing," Satoru said, throwing his arm around Haibara. He cleared his throat dramatically then said, "I don't know." Haibara slumped and Satoru grinned at him while he shook his shoulder. "Hey, relax, I'm not done! I don't know, but I do wanna find out. And you're gonna be my lab rat for a bit, yeah?"

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

"H-hold on…" Haibara huffed, leaning on the railing up the tall staircase. He winced as he stood up, stretching his legs and rubbing at his thighs. "I'm so sore… Gojo and Geto have really been working us hard!"

Sarah chuckled, adjusting a few loose strands of his hair and then fixing his jean jacket for him. He stood still, a goofy little smile on his face as he let her preen before he just couldn't take it any longer and he grabbed her hands.

"You're so cute," he said, grinning at her, "I'm sorry I kept you waiting so long for this date."

"Pff," she scoffed, tugging him along with her, "It's not a big deal. I'm not really all that high maintenance."

"Hmm," he hummed a little, following happily behind her with a goofy smile. "But you could be if you wanted to. You're definitely cute enough for that."

"Shut up," she laughed, "What do you mean?"

"I mean if I could get you nice things I could—"

"Don't do that," she huffed, stopping suddenly enough that he bumped into her back.

"Huh? Did—Did I make you mad?! I'm sorry!" he grasped her hands tightly, turning her to look at him. His eyes were wide and already a little teary and she couldn't help but giggle.

"You're so quick to get emotional," she teased, wiping under his eyes with her thumb, "Don't be. I'm not mad or anything. I just don't need you thinkin' you need to buy me things."

"Yeah?" he said softly, "I know girls like gifts and things so I thought maybe if I—"

"I like you plenty, Haibara-kun," she said with a softer smile than he expected, "Don't worry. You're a lot of fun. Don't read into other shit people do, okay? Just be you."

Haibara grasped her hand in both of his, his eyes wide and sparkling. "Can… can you call me by my first name now?" he asked suddenly.

She raised her eyebrow. "Oh, right, I forgot about that," she mumbled, "Would that be okay with you? I know it's a big deal."

"Yes! Please! I want it so bad!" he admitted readily, nodding excitedly.

She laughed, pulling their hands down still intertwined down. She leaned forward, just close enough for only him to hear her say, "Well, how about we keep going on our date… Yu?"

Haibara gasped and dropped her hands, pulling Sarah against his chest. His hand pressed the back of her head in and the other arm wrapped awkwardly around her waist. He kept it inside, but she could still hear him screech with his mouth closed and she couldn't help the muffled laugh buried in his t-shirt.

"Oh? All that huh?" she teased, trying to look up at him only to have him push her face back down.

"Don't look at me right now," he mumbled, "I-It's too much."

"Yeah? Just 'cos I said your name?" she asked, more seriously that time.

"It's… it's so crazy," he answered, peeking down at her for a moment before he looked away.

"Weird, but really cute," Sarah giggled, tugging on his hand again, "C'mon, people are staring. Let's go!"

Haibara nodded and followed after her. Eventually the curiosity bested him and he asked, "I'm surprised you think so. You grew up here, didn't you?"

She looked over at him and nodded, "Mhmm, yeah I did. I just never… thought it was a big deal…" She said, then furrowed her brows, "Because I… I didn't grow up… here?"

"Ah!" Haibara gasped, "L-Look! There's a—a place with gyoza! That's your favorite, right?!"

Sarah grinned at him, "Oh! Hell yes! Let's go!"

Haibara sighed with relief. It was too close. Always too close. And why did it always happen to him? It was like he was constantly having to jump through hoops to keep her from panicking. How was he supposed to learn more about his girlfriend this way?

There had to be a solution. There had to be some way, right? Some way for him to ask her about herself and get an answer that wasn't based on some big fake memories planted by the higher ups. But that of course… that required him to learn how Satoru was doing it.

"Do you think I could last five minutes in a real fight with Gojo-senpai?" Haibara asked suddenly.

"Pff," Sarah scoffed, "I don't think anyone could if he was going all out." Haibara slumped and sighed and she quickly patted his arm. "Oh, don't take it too seriously okay?" She said with a smile, "It's not your fault. He's just naturally amazing at like… everything."

"Yeah, he really is," Haibara sighed, "I want to beat him though because I… I just need to. For something I need."

"Something you need?" Sarah asked, glancing up at the menu board at the stand with Gyoza.

"Yeah, it's like… something really important," Haibara said, "Something I can't get unless I do it."

"What makes you think you have to do that?" She asked, "Like… isn't there another way?"

"Another way?" He asked, tilting his head.

"Yeah! If Gojo is an immovable wall, then maybe you can just… go around?" She suggested.

Haibara pointed at her, his mouth fallen open. "That's a great idea! Go around! I can do that!"

"Yeah! You definitely can!" Sarah said, patting his back. "You can figure this out!"

"You're right! I absolutely can!" He beamed, looking at the menu.

That evening, he dropped her off at the doors to the main HQ building. Nothing unusal. A quick peck on her cheek and she was off with a blissful smile and a blush. Haibara, meanwhile, was going to figure this out. There had to be a way. There just had to be!

Haibara crouched behind a large stone pillar near the entrance, his chestnut eyes tracking the subtle movements of the guards stationed at the perimeter. Each step he took was careful, or at least as careful as he could manage. He wiped the sweat from his brow and turned his attention back to Sarah once he was sure the guards had stopped watching him. She moved with tense determination, her steps brisk yet purposeful as she approached the two handlers waiting for her. Gojo hadn't lied about that part, not that he expected him to. Haibara stayed low, barely daring to breathe as he watched the exchange unfold. Sarah crossed the threshold, and the barrier flared for a moment, shimmering like heatwaves in the air. The sound of her scream pierced the stillness, and Haibara winced, clutching at the fabric of his shirt as if to shield himself from the sound. His teeth ground together as he watched the guards catch her trembling form, steadying her until she recovered. Her voice came next, muffled and too soft for him to discern, but it seemed calm despite her earlier cry. "Come on, Sarah," he muttered under his breath, leaning forward slightly to catch a better look. With a subtle nod from one of the handlers, Sarah was escorted down a set of stairs. Haibara waited, his legs cramped but steadfast, watching until the last shadow of her presence disappeared below. Only then did he move, emerging from his hiding spot and following quickly. He scanned the area, searching for another entry point. He tried the nearest side path, but yet another line of glowing talismans blocked his way, their protective energy sizzling faintly in the air when he approached. Another route led to a pair of guards stationed by a large gate, their stances alert. More alert than he was expecting. Haibara paused in the cover of a dense bush, rubbing the back of his neck in frustration. "There’s gotta be a way in," he muttered, clenching his fists. Gojo did it somehow. He kept repeating that in his mind. But the usual brute force Gojo would favor wasn’t an option. Haibara was pretty good, but he was nowhere near that good. He sighed, running through his options. "What would Geto-senpai do?" His thoughts conjured an image of Geto’s easy smile, the way he charmed his way through situations with calm words and clever manipulation. “Yeah… maybe that could work.” Straightening his posture, Haibara adjusted his expression to one of weary exasperation and stepped out from the shadows, deliberately walking into the guards’ line of sight. "Hey, uh…" he called out, scratching the back of his head and letting his voice tremble slightly. "I think I’m lost. Any chance one of you guys could help me out?" The guards exchanged a wary glance, their hands hovering near their weapons. Haibara’s heart pounded, but he kept his face as neutral as he could, leaning on his best impression of Geto’s confidence. "Smile and sweet talk," he thought. "Just smile and sweet talk."

Haibara swallowed hard, forcing himself to keep his smile intact as the guards stared him down. He could feel the weight of their scrutiny, every second stretching out like an eternity. His fingers twitched at his sides, aching to fidget, but he held his ground. “I was… supposed to be training with the people who handle the ceremony,” he said, pitching his voice to sound just uncertain enough to seem harmless. Vague was good. Gojo had told him everything he needed to know about the ceremony—the strange ashes, the weird energy of the ritual—but how much could he safely reveal without giving himself away? One of the guards raised an eyebrow, his hand still resting on the hilt of his weapon. “Training, huh?” he asked, his tone skeptical. “Who sent you?” Haibara didn’t hesitate, the words slipping out before he could stop them. “Gojo-san.” His heart skipped a beat as soon as the name left his lips. "What did I just do?" Panic surged through him, but he kept his expression neutral, his mind racing for a way to backpedal. But before he could say anything, the guards exchanged a look and nodded. “Alright,” one of them said, stepping aside. “Follow us.” Haibara blinked, barely concealing his surprise. They bought it? Relief mingled with a new wave of anxiety as the guards turned and began descending the stairs. He followed, his footsteps casual as he could manage but his mind a chaotic whirl. His fingers found the hem of his shirt, and he began fidgeting with it, twisting the fabric between his fingers as they descended deeper into the building. The air grew cooler, the walls narrowing as they moved into what felt like an underground chamber. His eyes darted between the guards, their broad backs blocking most of his view. "I’m so screwed," he thought, his stomach twisting. "What was I thinking? Throwing Gojo’s name around like that? What if they double-check? What if—" He forced himself to take a slow breath, trying to calm the storm inside him. He needed a plan, something clever enough to get him through this. Geto could talk his way out of anything, right? Maybe Haibara could too—if he didn’t choke. One of the guards glanced over his shoulder, and Haibara quickly plastered on a sheepish smile. “So, uh… how often do they run these ceremonies?” he asked, his voice light, as if he were just making small talk. The guard said nothing, his eyes merely flicking to Haibara for a moment before refocusing ahead. "That’s not ominous at all," Haibara thought grimly, his fingers tightening on his shirt. He glanced around as they reached the bottom of the stairs, his sharp eyes taking in every detail of the dimly lit corridor ahead. The faint scent of ash lingered in the air, mingling with something darker, more sinister.

The air shifted without warning. Haibara’s body tensed as he felt it—a wave of energy washing over him. But unlike the oppressive, suffocating force he expected, this was something entirely different. It was soft and light, like the touch of a gentle breeze or the warmth of sunlight breaking through clouds. His racing heart slowed, his breathing evening out as a strange calm settled over him. His eyelids grew heavy, threatening to close entirely, and for a moment, he forgot where he was. It felt safe, like a long-forgotten lullaby sung to quiet his fears. "This has to be it," he thought, his mind grasping at the faint threads of hope. "The second energy… Sarah’s energy. They’re taking me to her." But the tranquility shattered in an instant. The guards halted abruptly, their hands gripping Haibara’s arms as they forced him forward. Before he could react, he was thrust into a cold, empty room, the stone walls closing in like the jaws of a predator. The stark chill bit at his skin, starkly contrasting the warmth he’d felt moments ago. His gaze darted around the room, taking in its bleakness, until it landed on the figure standing at its center. An old man, tall and thin, loomed over him, dressed in a flowing robe that seemed to absorb the dim light. His face was lined with age, his sharp eyes glaring down at Haibara with a piercing intensity. The man’s voice cut through the silence like a blade. “Did you tell anyone else what you know?” Haibara froze, his mind scrambling for an answer. His mouth opened, but no words came out, just a garbled mess of stammered syllables. “I—I didn’t— I mean…” he trailed off, his throat dry as sand. His hands curled into fists at his sides, his nails digging into his palms as the gravity of the situation pressed down on him. The old man’s gaze didn’t waver, his expression as unyielding as stone. Haibara’s thoughts raced, every possible response falling apart before it reached his tongue. But no clever words or cunning plans came to him. All he could do was stand there, the weight of his mistake pressing down harder with each passing second.

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Taglist:

@inthedarkshadows000

[direwombat]

tagged by @josephseedismyfather for this fine wip wedesday (tysm~ <3)

working on the damaged (aka, the jakesyb slasher au) becuase this fic holding my brain hostage in a cage. so here's a scene from later in the fic (which is to say, after syb and jacob have made their truce fucked and caught feelings) during their road trip to montana. this is a super rough rough-draft and will be edited. also. uh. trigger warning for lighthearted discussions of cannibalism (but none actually depicted, it's all hypothetical).

Sybille kicks her feet onto the dashboard, the dried mud of her boots flaking and dirtying the control panel. "I got a question for you," she says, after taking a drag and letting her arm hang lazily out the open window.

"Shoot."

"You said you's wanted for man-eatin'."

Jacob hums an affirmative.

"What part of me would you eat first?" He takes his eyes off the road just long enough to give her a [puzzled] look. When his gaze briefly flicks to the cradle of her hips, she grins and adds, "Previous meals nonwithstandin'."

He diverts his gaze back to the road and sighs thoughtfully. "I'd start with the organs. Heart, brain—" he casts her a quick side-glance "—probably not your lungs or liver."

She barks a rasping, smoker's laugh. "Wouldn't blame ya. What about the rest 'f me?"

He pauses for a moment, presses his lips in a firm line, contemplating. "Don't take this the wrong way, honey, but you're not exactly prime cut beef."

"Kinda hard to tell what other way I should take that." She takes another drag and casts him a sidelong smirk. "'Sides, weren't like you was complainin' the other night—or woulda any pussy done?"

"That's not what I—" he groans, mildly frustrated. "Look," he says, and he takes a hand off the wheel to run his knuckles down her ribs, allowing them to knock against the protruding bones and notch into the divots between them. It kind of tickles. "You're like a hare. Skin, bones, and muscle, but not much fat. Tough meat."

"Ooh, careful Mr. Hunter," she coos, the teasing sarcasm coats her voice, saccharine and honey-thick, "neg me harder 'n I might feel insecure enough to give ya a blowie." Self-satisfied pride swells in her chest as she watches the tips of his ears turn pink. "Well, fine — 'f ya had to cook 'n eat my tough meat, how'd ya do it?"

He's quiet for a long, long moment. "Stew," he eventually answers. "Take the meat from your shoulders and thighs. Tenderize ya with a mallet. Sear ya off to lock in your — uh — your juices." He coughs awkwardly and her grin widens. "Toss you in a slow cooker and let you simmer with carrots and onions or something. Bag you up, keep you in the freezer and have you as a hearty meal on a cold winter day."

There's a tenderness in the emotion to his voice. If she didn't know any better, she might've called it affection. It settles warmly in her chest and all of a sudden she feels exposed. With words alone he's cracked open her sternum. He might as well be holding her still-beating heart in his hands, and somehow, the image of him lifting it to his mouth, teeth bared and ready to take a bite, sounds more romantic than it does grizzly.

She scoffs. "Just don't forget to season me. 'F I find out you ate me without addin' any seasonin' I'm gon' haunt your ass."

He chuckles. "Got any requests?"

"You will use Slap Ya Mama cajun seasoning and nothing else."

"Heard."

She brings her cigarette to her lips and sucks in another lungful of smoke. "What 'bout trophies. Anythin' you'd keep?" she asks on the exhale.

"Your eyes," he answers, perhaps a little too quickly.

She snorts. "What, you gon' keep'em in a mason jar in that duffle?"

He shrugs. "Dunno. Don't really take trophies."

"Right, right," she waves the hand holding her cigarette dismissively. "Use the whole animal 'n shit."

"Something like that."

"Why my eyes?"

He's quiet for a long moment. "Nice shade of green."

tag list (opt in/out)

@voidika, @buggknife, @cloudofbutterflies92, @la-grosse-patate, @tommyarashikage

@florbelles, @statichvm, @fourlittleseedlings, @wrathfulrook, @harmonyowl,

@ivymarquis, @carlosoliveiraa, @cassietrn, @confidentandgood, @strafethesesinners,

@trench-rot, @miyabilicious, @simplegenius042, @g0dspeeed, @inafieldofdaisies,

@josephslittledeputy, @aceghosts, @adelaidedrubman, @finding-comfort-in-rain,

@socially-awkward-skeleton, and @strangefable

[ophelialoveshandsomemen]

Habemus Papam, Sweetheart.

A James " Bucky" Barnes x OFC one-shot...to celebrate the new pope...yes I'm weird leave me alone! :P

( A.N. SOOOOO I wrote a fic, and it's the most self-indulgent, most sappy fanfic I've ever written. Most soppingly Catholic one too. S'what happens when you mix catholic girl with Bucky Barnes fangirl juice for over a decade....you end up with whatever this is... Have fun reading it. And yes, it's technically part of a longer series, but the series ain't up yet. Here's my James " Bucky" Barnes x OFC oneshot. I now need some holy water.) ( I'm also gonna tag my mutuals @virtie333 and @thekenobee, thought you guys maybe might get a hoot outta this if you wanna read it. I'm such a nerd oh lord.)

" Hey sweetheart! D'ya hear the news?!?"

Sara's husband's Brooklyn drawl did not normally accompany her late mornings, so he definitely had her attention. She heard him close the back door and the distinct sound of heavy motorcycle boots being discarded in the mud room was no doubt audible to their mostly deaf next door neighbour a mile down the road.

She runs down the stairs, because God forbid, she really hopes that the reason he's home isn't that something awful and urgent has happened. His political debates in Upstate New York never seem to end calmly.

He meets her at the bottom of the stairwell, catching her as she jumps up for a hug, as is her wont when he comes home.

"James!" She buries her nose in his leather jacket, inhaling his outdoorsy smell before pulling back. " What news? Something wrong?"

" Nah." He's got that cheeky grin on. Which is a little more rare these days. Now he's really got her attention. He carries her over to the living room across the house and turns on the tv set.

She's looking at him crossways.

" They just announced it. Heard it on the radio before the debate. Had to come back here to tell you. They picked the new pope, doll! Habemus Papam!"

She may have actually squealed a bit in excitement. " You ducked out of a political debate and drove back like a maniac on your bike to watch the new pope get announced with me?"

Bucky shrugs. " Yeah. Didn't want ya to keep all the joy of finding out to yourself!"

She blows him an affectionate raspberry as she settles on the couch curled up under Bucky's arm. "Oh gosh, I'm kinda scared to know who it is! Everyone has been so negative about it! "

" Like you said yesterday, sweetheart, probably someone you've never heard of."

" Think he'll pick a new name like the last one or continue an old one?"

" I dunno. New one? People like when they pick a new name, right? "

"Okay. I'll pick old one, then at least one of us will be right!"

" You just picked the old name 'cuz you really like old things."

She grinned like the feline of Wonderland. Stuck her tongue outta the corner and everything. Teasing-like. " Uh-huh. Why'd you think I liked you in the first place!"

Bucky pretended to be offended as he grabbed her and started tickling her in retaliation. "You mischievous little IMP! You'll pay for that!"

She manages to wiggle outta his grip long enough to say," Okay." and start kissing him like no tomorrow.

Eventually a truce is reached.

" I'll get you back for that once the pope's shown up."

She grins again. " Deal!"

They both attentively watched the tv for the cardinal to announce the name of the new pope. She had effectively trapped Bucky's metal hand between her two so she could squeeze and rub and worry it to death to ease her nerves. Though Bucky wasn't much better, he hadn't stopped rubbing her upper arm with his right hand since she had burrowed into his side.

A few minutes in, he spoke again, more in the gentle soft tones he tends to use when he's remembering something from before.

" I remember, think it was like '39 or something? When they announced who the new pope was on the radio back then. The whole family had just circled that old thing like crows to a meal. Becca was glued to my back, I was sat beside Dad, and Grandma Doyle 'n Grandpa Barnes were sat on Dad's tiny sofa, Annie 'n Essie were sitting in Dad's lap all quiet, Ma was chewing her fingernails she was so worked up 'n Stevie's mom was standing beside her, holding her breath I swear. And Stevie was a'sittin' on the floor between me 'n Gramps. Everyone shushin' everyone. Then they announced it. We have a new Pope! Pius XII ! Gramps cheered! The mas were crying! Gran'ma was praying. Dad even was happy. Stevie 'n me whooped 'n cheered 'n hurrah'd 'n brought out a case of beer we'd had smuggled up to the apartment. Ma scolded us but only a little. She didn't mind that day. It was a party! The Irish know how to throw a party! "

He chuckled some. " Gramps brought out the Irish whiskey in no time 'n then it was a real party! Took an eternity for the hang-over to go away too."

She snorted at that last bit. He turned wistfully quiet. Too quiet...

" Huh, good ole Pope Pius. He was a good man."

Sara looks at him quizzically. " How'd you know?" Not because she doubted him, she was just always curious to know things.

A shadow crosses Bucky's face. " Because HYDRA wanted him dead, 'n they tried to make me kill him. Back in the late 40's. Didn't work, so they got pissed 'n used me for experiments for a decade before tryin' me out in the field again."

Sara's eyes may have bugged out a smidgen.

" Jesus help me, James, you need a warning on some of your reminiscings!" She kisses him then to distract him from memory lane.

All of a sudden, a cardinal walks onto the loggia and slowly, patiently, he announces the new pope.

To say that Sara cheers was an understatement. Bucky doesn't say a word. But a big, genuine smile graces his features anyways, which with him means more than a thousand words.

They sat in anticipation for the appearance of the pope, whom they both agreed they had never really heard anything bad said of before, or much of anything at all to be honest...probably a very good thing in this economy.

Then he exits onto the loggia. The man himself. Pope Leo XIV. Sara sat in awe and was nearly bubbling over with joy. Bucky had tears threatening and he was nearly beaming himself. They listened to the first address and prayed along with the blessing. Tears were silently shed by both parties. Then the pope made his way back into the Vatican's heart.

Sara then slips off like the gremlin that Bucky likes calling her, and rushes back with two beers in hand.

" Cheers Barnes!" And she clinks his bottle with hers.

" Cheers Barnes!" He says right back at her.

Ever the old-school type, she yells out, " Viva Papa Leo! "

Bucky smirks and starts kissing her neck. She squeals.

"At least agree with me and say 'Viva!', James! God might think you're a Protestant now! "

The infectious laughter that follows his rumbling "Viva!" could keep her happy for decades on end. He then proceeds to attack her neck and wanting to celebrate in the most basic catholic way possible, he picks her up and walks to the bedroom. Her semi-fake-scandalized giggle to his final words before he got up the stairs echoed through the house.

" If it's a boy in nine months, guess we better call him Leo."

" JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES!"

[tomorrowusa]

Here's a project for anybody who hates dictatorships.

Tell one person a day about Project 2025 – effectively the Trump equivalent of Mein Kampf. (I call Project 2025 Mein Trumpf.) Look through it and quote passages which may be of special interest to the person you're speaking with.

Nobody in Germany who read Mein Kampf can claim that they knew nothing of Hitler's plans. Don't think that Mein Trumpf is just some sort of theoretical exercise.

On Wednesday, Navigator released the third and final results from its latest survey about Project 2025. Conducted June 20-24, the survey found that the most salient and message about Project 2025 is that it “is an unprecedented, extreme Republican plan that will fundamentally alter the American government making Trump even more dangerous in a second term by granting him presidential powers like no president before him has ever had.”  According to Navigator, the most effective messages focused on the impact rather than on political consequences. The message that worked best for Democrats and independents was that Project 2025 would "roll back and eliminate Americans’ constitutionally protected rights and freedoms," while the message that worked best for non-MAGA Republicans—i.e., Republican voters who did not self-identify as supporting the MAGA movement—was that it would "hurt hard-working American families and seniors." “Nearly 9 in 10 Democrats (87%), 7 in 10 independents (70%), and about half of non-MAGA Republicans (48%) believed it would have a negative impact on them and their families after exposure to Project 2025’s policies and messaging,” Navigator found.  There’s plenty in the authoritarian plan to worry Americans. It seeks to end no-fault divorce and  restrict access to birth control—even condoms! It demands cuts to Social Security—raising the retirement age from 67 to 70—and wants to privatize Medicare. Then there are the proposals to curtail food assistance, eliminate Head Start, restrict help to disabled veterans, and roll back overtime pay requirements for hourly workers. Voters of all stripes know Trump, so all his efforts to distance himself from these policies won’t work. The majority of people surveyed by Navigator also believe that Project 2025 describes policy positions of the Republican Party and Donald Trump, and that Republicans would implement it if they win full control of the government in 2024.

Project 2025/Mein Trumpf seems hellbent on eliminating reproductive freedom in every form. They even wish to restrict condoms.

The authors, overwhelmingly Trumpist white males, want to return the US to a mythological 1950s which probably didn't really exist – except in their far right imaginations. Even Ward and June Cleaver might have difficulty recognizing the dystopia outlined in this proposal.

The big takeaway from Navigator’s three surveys on this is that the more people find out about it, the more unpopular it is. Navigator writes, “Project 2025 is underwater by 48 points at the end of this survey … with nearly 3 in 4 independents opposed to it … and Republicans split on the plan … [and] more than 9 in 10 Democrats are opposed to Project 2025 by the end of the survey.”

Learn all you can about Project 2025/Mein Trumpf and its most hideous proposals. Let everybody know what the MAGA GOP has in store for a second Trump term. If you post about it here or anywhere, use the tag #Project 2024

Being passive and quiet will only bring about a patriarchal dictatorship; dictators are still easier to prevent than get rid of.

Here is the text of Project 2025. (PDF) You might wish to download it before the far right Heritage Foundation removes it if it becomes too much of a political liability during the Republican National Convention.

[seeminglydark]

Forgive me if this is weird to say, but as someone who really struggles to get attached to his own ocs out if fear of seeming cringe (and trying really hard to break out of thar) I really admire how much you unabashedly love your characters and how much it shows in your art

hahaha its not weird to say at all, I actually also struggle with this. I get a lot of self embarrassment and feel cringe about the fact that i draw the same things all the time, i dunno if that helps to hear. Sometimes I even refrain from posting things for a few days, or i wont post them in places like patreon or my patreon server or something cuz i have this fear of 'Oh Not Again.'

I think what helps me is remembering that first and foremost, I created my ocs for ME. I draw them for me. everything I do, its for me, coping mechanisms, self therapy, working through issues, or just for fun and aesthetic. They are extensions of me, and loving them is basically learning to love me. I put the care i should have been giving myself all this time into them, and it weirdly helps with my own self love journey, cuz honestly I feel pretty cringe most of the time and like i dont belong in most spaces. My ocs ease that, its a way of putting my heart and thoughts on paper so to speak.

These days i tell myself if people get bored, or dont want to see characters, or think im cringey, they have the freedom to unfollow. The internet is a vast place. When people are jerks about it, which I'll be honest, has happened WAY less than my brain tells me it will, i ignore and move on. No one has to be here. Has it happened? Yeah once or twice maybe, but compared to the positive messages I get its really rare. it's more that i think the rejection hurts us more when we hear it, I combat this by keeping a document where I've copy pasted all the comments/tags/dms that made me feel good, that way i can read through it and remind myself most people that are here love what i do. i like to think thats why people followed me.

And you know what, its so hard to separate ourselves from what people think of us, so remember the good things, cuz its incredibly rewarding that theres people who DO wanna be here. That love them maybe just as much as me. That feeling is WAY Bigger than the cringe feeling. The fact that i CAN be obsessive and cringe and people are on this ride with me? Holy Shit like I cant even describe how good that feels.

Create first and foremost for you. Thats the win, right there. And if it so happens others want to walk that road with you, well you've already won by creating so thats just a really cool bonus. Remember the kind interactions you have with people.They mean so much more than the negative ones. Love your ocs cuz they are a part of you in some kinda way and you deserve that love and care too.

-RJ

[scarabsinthestardust]

Better in the Morning // Ch. 16

***PLEASE READ: This might be the last chapter of Better in the Morning for some time. We're at the point where we are flowing into Finn's story, and I will be working on Tender primarily, at least for now. I don't want to say this is it, because Kya's story is far from over, and I have a plethora of new ideas for her and Jake that will be coming to the surface. But for now, thank you for everyone who tagged along on this rollercoaster. Also, since it is a continuation story on some level, the people on the taglist for this will get automatically added to Tender's as well, but if you don't want to be on that one or aren't interested in reading it, let me know! It will not be everyone's cup of tea, so I completely understand if that is the case.

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MASTERLIST

word count: 1800+

CHAPTER WARNINGS: language; mentions of strained parental relationship; mentions of death of a parent and sibling; very small mention of child abuse; talk of death; talk of pregnancy

With Sam home and everything finally looking up, we decided to tell him and Danny about the pregnancy. Sam was pouty about being the last to know, but they both expressed their happiness at the news, and launched into a lighthearted argument over who the little ‘guy’ would be named after. I just reminded them we didn’t know the gender yet, so they would have to wait it out.

“It’s a girl,” Josh piped up.

“Well, she is only the size of an avocado right about now, and you don’t know that.”

He shrugged. “I’ve been right before.”

I just rolled my eyes and Jake chuckled. “Yeah, if you give him too much credit his head will grow two whole sizes.”

“Whatever the fuck that means,” snorted Josh, playfully shoving his brother. “I hope you have your own set of twins,” he said as he stuck his tongue out.

“And that’s our cue to leave.” Jake laughed at my wide eyes and panicked look. “I don’t need you giving the mother of my child nightmares.”

“Oh, please, we were absolute angels growing up.”

“I’m sure your mother would beg to disagree,” I retorted.

When Jake and I returned home that evening, there was a box sitting at the front door. Jake took a quick look at it before picking it up to carry it inside. It was a fairly decent sized box but not overtly heavy. “What’d ya order?”

I shrugged. “I’m not expecting anything.”

It had my name on it, crudely handwritten, but no return address. Jake checked the camera footage at the front door but couldn’t tell who dropped off the box. It seemed they had somehow avoided the camera’s view. “I don’t like this. It’s weird,” Jake said as he eyed the box suspiciously.

I ignored him and grabbed a knife from the kitchen to cut through the tape.

“Be careful,” he warned.

“What, are you afraid it’s gonna be full of anthrax or dismembered body parts,” I teased. I opened it up and gasped dramatically, just to mess with him a little. “Oh my God, it’s full of… more boxes! The horror!”

“Oh, hush. What are they?”

“I dunno.” There were numerous white, square boxes stacked up in two piles. They had no labels to indicate what was inside them, but there was a folded-up piece of paper taped to one of the top boxes. I plucked it off and unfolded it, my confusion only growing as I read the note. It was written in Spanish, and read, ‘I thought you might be interested in these, and maybe you can show them to your own children one day.’ There was no signature, but I knew who had written it. “It’s from my dad.”

Jake seemed to relax at the information. I lifted out one of the white boxes, popping it open and emptying its contents. I examined the black, plastic ring, slotted all the way around with small photo negatives in cardboard frames, and recognized it as a slide cartridge. I pulled one out, holding it up to the light and tried to discern what was on the photo negative, but it was too small to make out any details. “They’re pictures,” I told Jake. “But for the love of God where the fuck am I gonna find a slide projector?”

“Josh might have one. Film geek and all.” Josh did indeed have one somewhere in his house, and said he would dig it out and bring it by tomorrow. I was nervous for some reason I couldn’t place. I had no idea what I would find on the slides, or why my dad chose now to send them. If I had to guess, and based on his words in the note, Richie probably let it slip that we were expecting. I hadn’t figured out if that was a good or a bad thing yet.

Josh brought over the slide projector the next morning as promised. He was extremely curious about what we would find and opted to stay. We wasted no time hooking up the projector in the living room, pointing it at a mostly blank section of the wall, and inserting the first cartridge. The projector whirred to life, and I hit the button to flip to the first slide.

It was an old photo, but I’d recognize those woods anywhere. It was the tree line outside of Vivian’s house, the sun coming down in beams through the gaps in the canopy. Many of the following were similar – beautiful shots of the forest, bushels of colorful flowers, birds roosting in high branches, and a lone rabbit, frozen, watching its surroundings with wide eyes. There were some taken from inside the house, illuminating it in an almost artistic light. Some of these could have been taken by a professional. Another set was taken in places unfamiliar to me. I flicked through pictures of expanses of desert at sunrise, some taken from what looked like the inside of a car. We saw more as the photographer traveled, passing a singular rundown motel and what appeared to be an abandoned church, left to rot in the harsh desert.

I still didn’t have any answers as to what exactly all this was, until we came across some different photos. I stared at my own face, barely six years old, laughing as I played with finger paints. My breath caught in my throat when I was presented with an image of myself and Luca, splashing in the water at the edge of the creek. He looked about nine, his dark hair messy with moisture. He looked so happy then. There were so many photos of him, photos I didn’t even know existed. They were all from when he was young, before he was pulled under by his own darkness.

I giggled at one of me holding a lit match and looking quite maniacal. “I thought you were joking about the arson,” Jake quipped.

“I bet you’ve burned lots of things down in the span of your life, crazy-pants,” Josh teased playfully, knowing full-well he had probably caused his fair share of explosions and raging flames. “Oh! Is that a tiny Finn?”

Finn and I sat on the hood of a faded blue pickup truck, both of us probably around twelve years old. He looked so shy, hidden in his oversized green sweater and arms wrapped around himself. In another photo, both of us much younger, he sat next to me on the couch, cozied up under a handmade quilt that I’m pretty sure Vivian still had. The lighting wasn’t great, but it was clear that he’d taken a blow to the face sometime before the picture was taken, dark bruising decorating his cheek and eye.

“What’s that about?” Josh asked me.

“I don’t know. His parents, I think.”

“I’ve tried to ask him about them before, but he won’t talk about them. Or… at least won’t tell me.”

“He never told me anything about them either. I just know they weren’t good to him.” We shared a sad look but neither one of us said anything else on the topic that day.

We kept flipping through the slides, occasionally stumbling upon some that I could tell stories about. When we got to the last cartridge in the box, I considered saving it for another day, but Jake and Josh were both curious and interested in seeing more. The very first slide drew a gasp out of me, and I brought my hand to cover my mouth.

I have no memory of my mother, and any photos I had ever been shown of her were few and far between. When I tried to pull the image of her to the forefront of my mind, it was blurry and incomplete. But I recognized her immediately. She sat cross-legged on the floor of a room unfamiliar to me, smiling up and whoever was taking the picture. Dad? Her hair was so long, dark waves falling messily over her shoulders. She wore a floral sundress with the sleeves crudely ripped off. Her eyes reminded me of my own, and she looked happy.

“Is that your mom?” Jake asked quietly.

“Yeah,” I whispered. I stared at her face, not quite willing to move on from the image, for the irrational fear that I’d lose it.

“You look just like her.” Jake’s comment made my eyes tear up. “Do you want to keep going, see if there’s more?”

I nodded hesitantly, worried this might be the only one of her. It wasn’t. She had been captured in various places, mostly with that same glowing smile on her face, and mostly alone. Not that I expected to see my dad in any of the images. It was too dangerous, in case some less-than-friendly people found anything they could use against him. I particularly loved a photo of my mother seated up against a tree, holding onto a well-worn guitar. She was beautiful, and as much as I cherished these pieces of her, it hurt to know that this was all I had.

I felt Jake place a hand on my back from his spot next to me on the couch. Josh took over operating the projector and we continued our little journey. There weren’t a lot of slides left and I was slightly disappointed that it was almost over. I noticed the change in my mother as we made our way through the cartridge. She was smiling in the photos, but the smile didn’t quite reach her eyes anymore. There were some taken of her while she was visibly pregnant, but I didn’t see the glow return to her face again until she was cradling a brand-new baby against her chest, smiling down at it. I couldn’t be sure if it was me or Luca. I assume it was the latter, as the following pictures were of him. It was easy to tell; even as a baby he had a thick head of nearly black hair. And then, another of my mom holding a tiny bundle close to her. A two-year-old Luca stood next to her, eyeing the new addition to the family curiously.

I realized I never really knew exactly when she died, just that it was a short time after I was born. Having this piece of evidence that she was there, at least for a little while, that she held me… it did something to my heart I can’t explain. It was a miniscule sense of a feeling similar to relief, but it bred something else in me. I know very well that death is often unpredictable and unstoppable. I don’t know if I necessarily believe in heaven or an afterlife, but I hoped wherever they were, they were together and happy, the way they were before they got sick, before they were taken from me.

I made a promise to myself that day, and a silent one to Jake and the baby growing in my womb, that I would do everything in my power to guarantee he or she would never have to grow up not knowing what it’s like to have a mother. They wouldn’t grow up in a broken home with an almost absent father. I promised that they would always have a family, and would always be loved.

TAGLIST Let me know if you want to be added!

@hollyco @fleetingjake @musicislove3389

[bcbdrums]

👛 your favorite rare pair?

♟️a character you feel is overrated?

🤍 a fandom you’ve only recently discovered?

thank you for the ask!! since you didn't specify a fandom, i'm gonna go two.

👛 your favorite rare pair?

For Kim Possible - Ron x Yori. Is it rare? I dunno. I never see it. Maybe it didn't used to be. But maaaaan I think there's SO much incredible character development potential there for Ron. I still think of Ron x Kim as endgame, but...could be interesting to explore the boy figuring out his life without Kim and with someone else for a bit. Ultimately to make him better for Kim. I don't say any of that against Yori, I just don't think she's the one in the end. And I also don't see him dumping Kim for Yori, more a thing of happenstance.

For Soul Eater - This was a hard choice. And I don't want to call a pairing with less attention but clearly an obvious pairing "rare." Like, Ox/Harvar doesn't get much notice but I wouldn't call it rare. So.... here we go. Spirit x Azusa. Hear me out... You've got two extremely driven, hardworking people. They went to school together. You have Azusa who's a bit of a feminist and so would naturally see Spirit's actions in a negative light, since on the surface he appears to treat women as objects at least as a teen, and then there's the drinking too which she likely wouldn't see positively toward academic/career success. Then there's Spirit who is in fact genuinely hardworking despite his faults, and he makes death scythe before her. She probably doesn't think he deserves it. There's also the age difference; Azusa is the youngest (except she's probably older than Sid, but she's younger than Marie and we know Spirit is the oldest so yeah). So Spirit probably did think of her as an annoying bossy tattletale brat. But thinking of them in the anime especially, stuck in the Death Room during those crucial moments... And just her time there in Death City after all those years apart. She'd have gotten to see Spirit shine. He'd have gotten to see her grown up and shining in her role. They're not kids anymore, a lot has changed, and they have so much in common now... This would be a wild one. This one would be hard work. This isn't some fall into lust/infatuation romance. This would be a relationship built on respect over time. But I can see it... There's some great art of this ship on the blog "Illogicat" sorry I can't tag it.

♟️a character you feel is overrated?

For Kim Possible - Wade Load. He's just the deus ex machina guy. He exists to give Kim a magical way out, and there's nothing else to him... Well, actually I see a LOT of villain potential in him. But in terms of people acting like he's an important main character... Well, yeah, I guess. Kim would have died many times over if not for him. But that's all he does... A quick phone call, magically he's already put exactly what she needs in her backpack without her knowledge somehow for that exact predicament that no one knew she'd be in... Yes, it's a cartoon, this is part of the humor, I get it. But the only real he interest he holds for me are his villainous tendencies that show up at times. But in his assigned role... Sorry, he ain't nothing.

For Soul Eater - Crona comes to mind first... I likely wouldn't have thought so if not for the fandom obsession, but it's like... There's not much to Crona? Crona is sort of a....blank slate. For self-projection. Yeah... All Crona ever seems to get noticed for is "cute when shipped with Maka" and never acknowledged for the things that matter like, abuse by parent/"sibling" and madness (serious, serious mental health issues here) and we could use Crona to talk about those topics in ways that matter. I'm not saying it's not valid to make a ship cute because you like cute, absolutely nothing wrong with that. But there's other issues (I briefly addressed in a prior ask maybe even today actually) and it's just... Crona could be so important. But that's never what I see in fandom. Overrated for the wrong things, underrated for the right things. (And like, the fandom targeting random ppl who haven't read the manga to tell them it's bad cuz you don't like Crona's ending... Come on, fandom.) I'm keeping this extremely brief for the sake of post-length.

🤍 a fandom you’ve only recently discovered?

It's been some months now, but, Psycho-Pass. 😌 I have a Soul Eater crossover fic to thank for this (my GOSH if any characters ever belonged in another universe.... SE chars belong in Pyscho-Pass my GOSH). I'm stalled on season 3 though because there's no dub and I haven't had the energy for the sub in months.... But I've been itching to get back to it and heh I just may have energy now...

Psycho-Pass is an anime crime drama. Pretty gory actually, so for me I do have to look away from the screen at times (also - two SE voice actors star as the main characters!). Each season/movie jumps to a different point in time, but it's all one big connected story in the end. Season 1 is the best (so far) and my goodness... The themes are mature. If you enjoy deeply intellectual shows, you'll enjoy this. It's also a lot of mystery. I like the animation style too, it's really stunning.

Here have some amazing Soul Eater x Psycho-Pass crossover art because IT'S AWESOME.